Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

Private Griffin

“Which of your men is the least likely to be…moved by a pretty female, Captain?”

As soon as the elderly nun asks my captain that odd question, I know what his answer is going to be. Me. Of course he’s going to answer with the name Griffin. Most of the soldiers in this regiment pass their nights in the town brothel, spending their money on women and alcohol. My lack of interest in doing the same has made me an outsider—and that’s more than fine with me.

The captain crosses his arms and regards the nun thoughtfully. “I have someone in mind, Mother Superior, but I’m curious why you ask.”

After a quick glance over her shoulder at the group of my fellow soldiers, she steps closer to the captain and lowers her voice. “There is a young woman among us who cannot help but stir the lust of men. We’ve kept her hidden for many years because of her attractiveness, but obviously we have no choice but to bring her into the open today.”

She is correct that there is no choice.

My regiment has been tasked with transporting the nuns from their current home to a safer, more remote convent up in the hills, where we will remain with them for a week to ensure the building is safe from intruders.

There has been a rebel uprising in our country and the church has become a target, along with the government. All religious buildings are in danger of attack and their convent is no longer safe. We are helping them travel under the cover of night and will remain with them indefinitely until the rebel forces can be defeated. Ours is a country that values its religious institutions and the nuns are to be protected at all costs.

“You see, Captain,” says Mother Superior, folding her hands together at her waist, her expression severe. “I’m in need of someone to keep her safe from the other men.”

The captain is visibly skeptical, but he flicks an absent wrist at me. “I will assign Private Griffin to this most worthy cause. He is moved by no female.”

Snickers reach me from the other soldiers, but I ignore them, saluting the captain and standing back. I’m looking for a place to sit down and clean my rifle when the nun surprises me by clutching my forearm with her bony fingers. “Does the captain speak true? You are not the kind to fall prey to a woman’s wiles?”

I grunt in the affirmative. Although, perhaps she has gotten the wrong impression about me. I’m a red-blooded male with all the appropriate needs and urges. I had casual relationships that were physical before I joined the army—and they meant nothing to me. I am positive that I will not be moved by the nun she claims to be so pretty. While in the throes of his third divorce, my father taught me a long time ago that women are more trouble than they’re worth—and the more beautiful, the higher the capacity to make a man’s life hell.

As a thirty-year-old man, I’ve watched from the sidelines as this has proven true, time and time again, for my two older brothers back home, in addition to my own father. And now some of the soldiers in my regiment. They waste time writing to women and pining over snapshots in their bunk, while the women merely scheme over ways to make their men crazy with head games and ultimatums.

The men who don’t have women waiting at home throw their money at sex.

Either way, it’s always a woman making a man broke and miserable.

If the men in my regiment want to laugh over my ability to withstand the charms of women, so be it. I’ve heard them speculate that I’m impotent or a eunuch or that I prefer the company of men. None of those things are remotely true. When I fist my cock at night and bring myself off, it’s the female form I think about—though there is never a face attached. In real life, however, there is no woman who will ever tempt me to make bad decisions or act like a fool.

“Are you positive your willpower is so strong, soldier?” Mother Superior asks again. “She must remain untouched, you see. When her father brought her to us as a girl, her virtue being stolen was his deepest concern. It has been something of a challenge keeping her innocent.”

This is getting ridiculous. “I assure you, she will arrive at the convent with her innocence. I’m not a man who wants for willpower.”

Finally, Mother Superior seems satisfied. Mostly. There is a still a glint of anxiousness in her eyes. “Very well. I will bring her out now.”

When she turns and scurries into the convent, I shake my head, wanting to laugh for the first time in a long time. This job will be an easy one. I’ve been fighting in the field for months, witnessing bloodshed between the army and the rebels. I’ve killed men with my bare hands and dodged bullets on the front lines. To think that a young woman—a peaceful nun, to boot—is going to challenge me in some way is laughable.

Behind me, the soldiers are getting restless with the need to load these women onto the bus and complete today’s mission. They’re probably already thinking of ways they can blow their pay on booze and sex. We are only waiting on two more of our charges, the nun I’ve just spoken with and the young woman she believes can bring everyone of the male sex to their knees.

Again, I have the urge to laugh. Not going to happen.

My eyes narrow when Mother Superior emerges from the stone building with a small figure at her side. It’s a second nun in the customary robe, except hers has a large hood attached that covers her head and shadows her face. A rosary is fashioned around her waist, the cross dangling at her stomach.

A finger of uneasiness tickles the back of my neck and I frown over the involuntary reaction. It’s probably just my senses reminding me to be on guard during the journey ahead, since we’ll be going through locations of unrest.

The nuns stop in front of me, Mother Superior looking more uneasy than ever.

A second later I find out why.

“Private Griffin,” Mother Superior says quietly, positioning herself so that she’s blocking everyone else’s view of the second nun. “This is Sister Mercy. Please keep her safe, as we discussed.”

Then Sister Mercy looks up at me.

Claws embed themselves in my gut and I make a sound.

The ground rushes up at me and I brace for impact, but when I shake my head, I’m still standing—staring—at the most beautiful woman who ever walked the earth. Her eyes. I can’t even believe they’re real. Huge and golden and hopeful. Her hair is mostly hidden beneath her habit, but little auburn strands peek out at her temples. There’s a smattering of freckles across her nose, making me think of nighttime stars that sometimes pop up early, at sunset. And her mouth…

It’s not a mouth that belongs to a nun.

It’s a mouth designed for sinning. With me.

The need to taste it causes a static roar in my ears.

“I see you’re not as immune to her as your captain claimed you would be,” Mother Superior says. “Perhaps we should find someone else to escort her—”

“No.”

Sister Mercy will be put in someone else’s protection over my dead body. She would be mauled by the debauched men in my regiment.

Hell, I think a man of the cloth might break his vows for a taste.

Any man would. My own cockis stiff and pressing against my uniform pants. One look at her has turned me into one of the horny animals I typically scorn—and that pisses me right off.

With a growl, I pump my rifle in one hand. “Keep your head down and don’t give me any trouble.” I take her by the elbow through her robe. “Let’s move.”